


Types Of Love

by Zab43



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blind Date, Children, Developing Relationship, Do they count as children if they're tadpoles and hatchlings?, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Far too sweet for demons, Fluff, Happy Ending, Ligur Lives (Good Omens), Love, Love - lots of love, Matchmaking, Melodrama, Mentioned Michael (Good Omens), Multi, Over the Top, Philosophy, Relationship(s), Self-Indulgent, Sorry Not Sorry, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zab43/pseuds/Zab43
Summary: Some musings on the nature of love and how it works on the celestial/infernal planes that turns into a metaphysical love story featuring Gabriel and Beelzebub getting together in typically showy style… with Hastur and Ligur in the role of matchmakers, incidentally being a sickeningly loving couple with (against all their instincts) only the best of intentions.…maybe a bit sickly sweet at times and highly melodramatic…
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens)
Kudos: 5





	Types Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of an excursion into philosophy and flowery language and generally over emotional silliness, but I enjoyed writing it. Maybe someone will enjoy reading it. As always reader/kudos/comments are welcome, only please don’t be mean.

The Ancient Greeks had many words for love because they recognised it came in many different forms. What they lacked, and understandably so, were terms for demonic and angelic love.

Generally angels love in an all encompassing way - ‘Agape’ in the terms of Ancient Greece: universal and unconditional. It’s expected of them, it was built into them at their creation. They also carry a familial, almost parental, love for all of humankind - their charges whom God entrusted them to look after - closest to ‘Storge’ in Ancient Greek. Finally they love their own kind - the other angels -with duty and commitment - ‘Pragma’ - a staid type of long term commitment, a duty almost.

Demons usually hit nearer to a sexual, passionate, madness - ‘Eros’ and ‘Mania’. They are also deeply and sometimes dangerously committed to each other - less ‘Pragma’ and more ‘Philia’ but again with overtones of Mania. The more playful, flirtatious passion between young lovers - 'Ludus' - they keep for entertainment purposes, it’s a game they enjoy but it doesn’t run deep.

Both angels and demons carry self love - ‘Philautia’ - but in different ways:

Angels are, paradoxically, more ‘grounded’ (as in stable not 'earth-bound'). They feel their own self-worth, they understand their place in the world, they are content. At best this inner security and tranquillity allows them to love outwardly and selflessly. At worst it makes them smug and patronising, almost cold-blooded in their assessment of what they themselves can offer emotionally versus another’s need for love.

Demons have a neurotic turbulence of emotion. They can feel pride and vanity in the normal human way, which is really no bad thing. However, they also carry the potential for deep paranoia about their own position and image. This can create such a determined selfishness that it damages those around them. At worst a narcissistic obsession with their own image, at best a desire to be seen as worthy and successful, which can see them lift others to reflect well on themselves - an accidental altruism.

However, these descriptions only really scratch the surface of what it really means to love as an angel or as a demon. They feel more deeply and more completely than any human could understand. Love can be painful or joyful or both at the same time. It can cause hurt, and damage those around them, or it can heal and unite, leaving a trail of peaceful bliss behind it.

In human terms demonic love is closer to being thrown out of a nightclub for lewd conduct in the toilets. Downing tequila shots all night while wailing out the lyrics of offensive rock songs. Waking up in the morning with a hangover and a series of desperate notes from your house-mates about the undesirability of orgasmic screams at 3am. Lying in court to provide an alibi, helping bury the body or burn the evidence. Committed to each other in a dangerously single minded way.

Again using human references, angels would be more into cuddling together on the sofa. Watching a kids film you both remember while sharing a tub of ice-cream. Jumping in puddles on a long walk together. Sharing memories and holding hands. Cooking special meals as a surprise to cheer each other up. Lighting candles and putting rose petals in the bath. Giggling at in jokes and dressing up as pirates for no reason other than it’s fun to do so.

That’s not to say that demons don’t do the angel stuff, or that angels never do the demon stuff...

...Beelzebub remembered the first time ze noticed Gabriel’s eyes, really noticed them that is. It had been at the airfield on the day Armageddon didn’t happen. Well, actually Armageddon had failed to happen everyday since the creation of the world, but on this particular day it should have happened and then didn’t. That was why it was important. 

Beelzebub was angry about the lack of Armageddon. The buzzing sibilants, and zir increasing lack of control over zir swarming halo of flies, were the only signs of this. Ze controlled zir outward appearance very well. Too well some would say. Descending to Hell and informing Satan of the Antichrist’s decision had been done, to outward appearances, entirely in cold blood. Without any emotion beyond mild irritation.

After the failure of even this ploy ze had retired to the throne room and fumed silently. However, that one face to face stare, the sight of those violet eyes, remained as a vivid memory. More than a memory really, it was approaching an obsession. Even with eyes open, staring at the damp streaked walls of Hell, ze could still feel the excitement the burn of that stare had elicited.

Violet was an unusual colour - purple had been chosen by the emperors of Rome, and the higher echelons of the Catholic church - it was a regal colour, a powerful colour. Violet on the other hand was harder to define. The thought of it conjured up feelings of spirituality, an ethereal otherness that the demon couldn’t quite pin down.

It was frustrating, and at the same time fascinating. It conjured up feelings ze couldn’t quite remember, like a word on the tip of your tongue or catching a brief scent of something from childhood. The exact description couldn’t be put into words, couldn’t be defined. It itched away at the back of zir brain like a wayward fly crawling across bare skin on a hot day. That feeling at least ze was familiar with.

This feeling however, was warm and welcoming, pulling zem into a swirling mixture of emotions that didn’t make sense. Ze wanted nothing more than to gaze into those eyes again. Nothing more than that. No desire to touch, to explore, to physically satisfy that attraction, simply to look and be looked at. A Heavenly sort of love, adoration almost, without the need for consummation, just a desire to bathe in the presence of another.

From the other perspective Gabriel had also felt anger that day. He experienced a definitely unangelic flare of temper, a white hot burning feeling that pierced his very core. He tried to smother the fire. It wouldn’t do for an archangel to be seen to submit to the sin of wrath. He couldn’t quite manage it and that loss of self-control irked him mightily.

He contrasted his outward show of temper with the coolness of his immediate opposite. Beelzebub’s face had remained impassive, clearly displeased, clearly disapproving, but not so obviously angry. It annoyed him to have been caught out where ze remained impassive.

Sometimes the anger at the traitors spilled over into anger at Beelzebub and zir ability to remain calm. He wanted to take hold of zir shoulders and shake them until he got a reaction. His imagination couldn’t stop, the thought of grabbing the demon, of violently agitating zem until he provoked something, some response, dangerous and painful, wouldn’t go away.

His mind inevitably moved onto what that reaction would be. He wanted zir to show anger, to tremble with wrath, to shout, to slap his face and scream at him… then he wanted to touch, to taste to hold. What do demons taste of? His thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone, they distracted him at inappropriate moments, he couldn’t rest. He was obsessed with a demonic variety of love that Heaven hadn’t seen since before the rebellion.

…and so, as you can see, sometimes demons feel angelic love and sometimes angels feel demonic love. Beelzebub daydreamed about holding hands, comfortable silences and gazing into each other’s eyes. Gabriel obsessed about grabbing and shaking, touching and tasting, changing from two entities into one in a whirl of energy and passion. It was unnerving for both of them.

There were demons who understood. Hastur and Ligur had been together since before anyone could remember. They had shared virtually all the forms of love understood by the Ancient Greeks and on top of this their fair share of both angelic and demonic affections.

After Ligur’s death by holy water it was that love, that created a paradox. One could not exist without the other. They were two halves of one being, and, as Hastur survived, so Ligur must also exist - either that or both would die. Something twisted in reality and it was as if events on the run up to Armageddon had been wiped out. The Antichrist was responsible for some of this, but there was a deeper magic at play. Whether it was by Her intervention, or something much older, Ligur was restored.

Hastur had found him almost immediately after the trial. By ‘leave Crowley alone’ he had understood he was to remain in Hell, to not interfere, to grieve alone and unsupported, probably to die himself. However, when he retreated to the deep-dark caverns, where the sulphur burned with sickly yellow smoke and purple-red flame, he found the other half of himself already resurrected.

It was a reunion that couldn’t been seen on the physical plane. Angels or demons could have tried to describe it, but wouldn’t, because you either knew and understood that bond, or would never do so. Outwardly there was no real sign of change, but inwardly the failure of Armageddon, the near loss of their joint selves, had caused a deep and fundamental change.

They looked inward now, to each other. The removal of Armageddon as the driving force in their demonic existence had left a hole that needed to be filled. They filled it with each other, and determined that no such disaster would ever occur again. They would be forever united by an irrevocable sharing - in human terms they would produce offspring. A mixture of both themselves, a physical representation of their spiritual bond.

Of course they didn’t tell anyone about their motivation. It carried far too many connotations of angelic love - the caring and sharing, fluffy pink hearts kind of love, that demons weren’t meant to feel. It also carried with it a fierce and burning pride in their own selves and their own abilities to create - as She had created. They felt themselves lifted to the status of mini-gods.

As this was properly demonic in all senses they had no qualms about boasting of their achievement. Not that Beelzebub seemed the least bit interested. That was annoying. However, they did recognise the reason. The half vacant stares, the unexpected smiles in unguarded moments, the delicate sighs that sounded wistful and hopeful.

To their love-struck selves there was clearly something going on there, and something they didn’t want to admit they shared. Can you imagine Hastur delicately twisting wire around the charred bones of a sacrifice to make a present for his love? Can you imagine Ligur decorating a cave with the tattered banners, and ruined symbols of state, remaining after a devastating war that he himself started simply to obtain those trophies for his love? Of course not. Demons wouldn’t do such a thing.

They did, however, recognise the symptoms in another. Given his unique line with the opposition Ligur determined to do something about it. He carefully questioned Michael about Gabriel and his behaviour of late, how he couldn’t quite get over the lack of the war, how his temper flared, how he ranted about the ‘opposition’. Oh, they knew something was up, but was it love or hate the archangel felt?

It was pointless asking Michael straight out. Michael was an angel of the old-school he felt only angelic love and erred more toward the patronising and smug end of the spectrum at that. He certainly couldn’t be expected to notice the signs of a demonic passion in another. Ligur questioned obliquely, unsure of why he did so. That his existence was complete in all senses he was sure, why this should make him want to complete another’s he didn’t know.

As you’ll have realised he was in fact feeling more of the angelic side of love than a demon had any right to. His desire to satisfy the unrequited devotion of his boss was far too altruistic to take at face value. In their deep-dark cavern, where the tadpoles and the hatchlings played, Hastur and Ligur invented demonic reasons for helping Beelzebub and Gabriel.

Heaven and Hell needed to coordinate their efforts if Armageddon was to happen for real. Having a contented boss would make their lives easier. If Beelzebub would start paying attention maybe ze would give some recognition to their own joint efforts in bolstering the ranks of the demon army. As yet the tiny Hellspawn had only wriggling tails, wide eyes and webbed feet, but they were already filled with juvenile demonic malice and an inexplicable ability to set fire to water. They would be strong demons eventually.

The secretly un-demonic demon couple hatched a plan and this was why Beelzebub and Gabriel both received messages. The message to Gabriel was easy to concoct. The theft of the Prince of Hell’s official paper and seal was accomplished with only the loss of two Erics - ze was, after all, distracted. Getting a convincing Heavenly message took more effort, but Ligur managed.

He understood enough about angels to know that they couldn’t resist interference. Anything to ‘help’ the Heavenly cause, especially if it proved them right all along. Michael had beaten Satan in the first war, surely it should be he that led Heaven in the next? Gabriel had had his chance and failed - that the failure was really nothing to do with the archangel they didn’t dwell on - it had happened on his watch.

Therefore, Gabriel needed to step down, or be forced to step down. Being seen consorting with the enemy would be enough for this to happen and so Michael had helped facilitate the demons’ plot. He never once realised that the demons were the ones motivated by Heavenly love whereas he was motivated, not by a practical need to ensure a Heavenly triumph for the benefit of all, but by a vanity that dwarfed even the greatest of demon narcissists.

The meeting was all set. Hastur chewed on his little finger in a nervous way, only noticing he was doing so when Ligur gently removed the digit and replaced it with a liquorice stick. He knew his partner needed something to physically ground him at times of stress. They’d discovered the taste of the liquorice was, if anything, better than the taste of a leather glove or the tang of blood.

Both demons were, in fact, very nervous. Arranging a clandestine meeting between an archangel and a prince of Hell was dangerous enough, doing so under the false pretence that the other was the one who had called the meeting was very dangerous indeed. If they worked out it was a lie then they would both be looking for someone to blame.

They also had to contend with Michael and his machinations. They didn’t want Gabriel to walk into a trap that could be supposed to be of Beelzebub’s making. Therefore, the location of the meeting had had to be changed last minute. The demons hoped Michael hadn’t found out.

They hid themselves as only the lurking champions of Hell can (5,999 years running - last year had been a no-show due to the hatching brood and had been won by Dagon, much to their joint annoyance). They lurked to championship standard: crouched behind the bins on the edge of a deserted car-park.

It was a venue on neutral ground - that used to mean graveyards or crossroads, somewhere where the usual rules were suspended, half in, half out as it were. The car-park was for a council leisure centre where the local gospel choir practised on Saturday evenings so was near enough at a pinch.

A demon prince and an archangel made their impressive entries. Both trying to out do and intimidate the other, without seeming to do so. Both timed their arrival to be just late enough to have irritated the other party, and so they arrived at the same time. To their mutual annoyance.

There was a bolt of lightening, a parting of clouds, a shake of the ground and splitting of concrete. Then two figures, somewhat disappointing in size and stature bearing in mind the drama of their entrance, stood and looked about them.

Ligur noted the liquorice was nearly gone and poked Hastur in the ribs offering him a cigarette instead. He smoked silently while the two figures eyed each other in an ominous silence.

The air crackled with the static of holy and unholy energy. The tension was enough to confuse the weather and the clouds swirled in banded patterns of purple, black and white, unsure if they should produce rain or break to allow the fierce sun to light the stage. In the end a single shaft of sunlight managed to find its was through and illuminated a spot between the pair. Both looked at the ground where the sun shone and ignored each other.

Inside Beelzebub was a churning, fluttering feeling, on the edge between nausea and euphoria. Zir head felt light and ze glared at the brightly illuminated piece of concrete as if it was the only thing keeping the world from spinning in on itself and collapsing around zem.

Gabriel also felt light-headed, but on top of this he felt something burning deep within. It was a new feeling somewhere on the edge of agony and ecstasy. He looked at the space in front of him as if his gaze would melt the very stone and burn a shaft straight down to Hell.

Hastur and Ligur held their breath. This was a crucial moment. They understood both sides of these feelings, but they didn’t know how they would react together. The demon couple reached out and touched, holding onto their partner with a strength that would have crushed a human hand. The thought flitted lazily across Hastur’s mind, splintering bone tearing through delicate flesh, blood flooding out through jagged wounds, dripping down onto the concrete below. It calmed him.

Beelzebub was the first to look up. Ze saw Gabriel intently watching the space before him, the sunlit piece of car-park seemingly taking all his attention. He didn’t even seem aware of zir presence! That was when ze got angry. Not the cool, icy anger of a thwarted Armageddon, but the white hot anger of a temper lost, a fiercely painful emotion bottled up for far too long.

Beelzebub glowered and a darkness shrouded zir small figure. The ground shook once again and the place where Gabriel’s gaze was fixed erupted like a volcano. However, Hell’s molten sulphur and brimstone didn’t pour from the vent, but instead came a stream of black bodies, winged and hairy with multifaceted eyes. The swarm quickly surrounded the archangel in a cloud of buzzing menace.

Gabriel felt the blast of angry energy and rejoiced. This was what he wanted, raw and unbounded, a power that washed over and around him. The swarm engulfed him and he embraced it with arms open wide. The flies danced around him, a circling, darting, seething mass of rage. He smiled a wide and dangerous grin and allowed his own energy to expand.

The swarm was pushed out and back, but not dispersed. It now surrounded both of the figures to such an extent that neither demonic spy could see clearly. They could feel the energy though. Angelic and demonic, fizzing and burning, clashing together with the power of a fusion reaction. Like adding potassium to water the two burned together so brightly that it hurt their very beings.

The power of a demon prince and an archangel clashed and fused. Lightening circled with the flies, a swarm of dark and a swarm of light. Neither had the upper-hand. The battle was between good and evil, Heaven and Hell. The power of the clashing demonic and angelic auras could have continued forever.

However, Gabriel was fuelled by another type of passion that suddenly burst out of him. He lunged forward and grabbed the demon prince. Hell-fire and fury exploded in his arms but still he clung to the small figure.

Hastur had begun to gnaw at his finger again, his spare hand gripped by Ligur so firmly that both their fingers had turned white. They hadn’t expected this and dreaded the potential outcomes. What if one or the other won the battle - would Armageddon start after all? Had they managed to kick off the destruction of the earth simply by trying to help? The road to Hell is paved with… well actually they knew it was paved with frozen door-to-door salesmen, but the human aphorism was more descriptive of how they felt.

Beelzebub felt the archangel’s arms around zem and part of zir wanted to melt into him, the more demonic part wanted to simply melt him. The two emotions fought for prominence. In zir indecision ze found zir arms had encircled the archangel back. The two came face to face in the centre of the maelstrom.

Gabriel forgot his position, his angelic nature, his reputation and image, and leaned in to kiss the gloriously angry demon before him. Beelzebub reacted angrily and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. That was when both parties stopped thinking and just kissed. Around them the flies and the lightening whirled and swirled and slowly the storm blew itself out, leaving behind a couple in love. Not angelic nor demonic love but a fusion of both.

The Ancient Greeks had many names for human love and added to these were demonic and angelic loves. However, on top of all of these, was now a new type of love, a fused love, of dark and light, of anger and acceptance. Both fully demonic and fully angelic.

Hastur breathed a sigh of relief and tugged at Ligur’s coat. It was time for them to go.


End file.
